You started as the first
rain drop
slowly trickling down my nose.
I resolved to hate the
rain that I once was so fond
of, because
when it rains, it pours, and you get wet.
Everyone loves
the sound of raindrops on tin roofs
and the calm
cool breeze in the air.
The vibrant green of the spruce trees
in all their glory,
grown tall by torrents of rain.
No one loves the cough
lodged deep in your throat from
one too many minutes
in the rain.
A sniffling nose or feverish
tremblings, framed
by soaked hair and soggy boots.
I resolved to hate the rain
because my
nose ran too frequently
and my toes are permanently violet.
But you were the first rain drop
trickling down my nose.
I opened an
umbrella to make a barrier,
some distance,
I bought a puffy coat from the
second-hand store to keep
from getting sick,
but your soft pitter-patter
on the vinyl above my head struck
a chorus in my heart.
The rain fell down my
umbrella and watered the earth.
In your tread, flowers grew
and grass flourished emerald
green.
Cities rose and babies cried,
mothers held fathers and
a small child
handed me a dandelion.
The rain I once despised, for
shivering fingers and trembling
toes, nourished
the earth and made life
beautiful.
